


And So It Is (The Shorter Story)

by domesticaffliction



Series: A Dream Which Consumes The Worlds [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:29:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domesticaffliction/pseuds/domesticaffliction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The paper, half of it crumpled in Stiles' strong grip, is opened to the obituaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So It Is (The Shorter Story)

Five months later, Stiles is having breakfast at Peter's apartment. She's flipping through the paper when suddenly she stops and the acrid smell of sorrow fills his kitchen and makes Peter's wolf howl inside his mind. He's not sure when it happened, but in the short time since their first meeting at the bonfire, Stiles has been accepted by his wolf as a potential mate, and watching her normally fidgety body shocked still by whatever article she'd found in the paper makes Peter restless. 

He turns off the stove and leaves the bacon to cook in the remaining heat on its own and then he goes to her, wrapping his arms around her thin frame from behind. The paper, half of it crumpled in Stiles' strong grip, is opened to the obituaries. 

"Somebody you know," Peter says, keeping his voice low and non-aggressive. 

"Yeah, a—" Stiles answers and ponders. "A cousin of sorts. But it's too soon. She should have had another year at least!" 

Peter tightens his arms to comfort her. A terminal illness, then, he thinks. He hates the reminder of Stiles' humanity. It makes him want to bite her, right then and there, but then he remembers the deal she'd made with him early on in their relationship. No turning, unless she specifically asks for it, unless she's in acute danger of dying. 

Sometimes Peter dreams of it. Stiles, soaked in blood (the majority not her own), in mortal danger. His teeth against her throat. A moan, a scream, a sigh. She'd make a beautiful wolf, that one. It's not meant to be though. 

Instead, he buries his nose in the hollow of Stiles' throat and breathes in her scent and listens to her heartbeat to find out when she's finally calm enough to distract. "What do you want to do?" He asks, when she turns in his embrace and presses even closer into his body. 

Stiles doesn't answer, only shakes her head. She puts a hand in his hair and pulls him up and into a kiss. Peter follows the hand without complaint, letting her take comfort in his body for as long as she needs. 

It turns out to be a lot more than he expected, right here in the kitchen. She pushes him down until he's kneeling between her legs and opens her legs wide until Peter can see her cunt, her labia minora still somewhat swollen from their earlier morning sex. Peter can never resist to run his cheeck along the small triangular patch of pubic hair above it, it's the place where her smell is the strongest. He'd love to drown in that scent. Sex and Stiles and Peter combined into one. 

When she pulls him closer, he goes. He lets his tongue follow the path that his eyes took before. When she comes, he feels like the most powerful man in the world. When she sighs, after, and pushes him away that's alright, because she whispers his name and it sounds like a benediction. He revels in it. 

They go back to bed after that. The bacon and the newspaper stay in the kitchen; one crumpled, one burned. In the next room, when Stiles asks Peter, "Will you come with me to the funeral?" Peter just says yes. There's no question, he will go wherever Stiles asks him to go.


End file.
